


Spectrum

by Kalael



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Evil Boyfriends, FOR YOUR BIRTHDAY, HERE YOU GO LINDZ I WROTE FLUFF, I DID THIS FOR YOU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-06
Updated: 2013-04-06
Packaged: 2017-12-07 15:18:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/750000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalael/pseuds/Kalael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His kisses are bitter, like the taste of a coin on your tongue, metallic and sharp and warm.</p><p>(I wrote fluff I'm so proud of myself)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spectrum

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lindzzz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lindzzz/gifts).



His kisses are bitter, like the taste of a coin on your tongue, metallic and sharp and warm.

It could be like the taste of blood, copper-hot and sour, but Jack knows that flavor and this isn’t quite it. This burns in an entirely different way and he presses closer, closer, until his mouth is scalded by the heat and he wants it _scar_ into his body.

Pitch has left his marks in other ways, thoughts digging in with claws and refusing to let go, and Jack knows that things might have been different without him but he doesn’t want that. He likes things the way they are now, with Pitch pressed against him and surrounding him and there’s nothing else to hold onto but Pitch.

The tides may shift but this will always remain the same, and Jack can’t think of another place he’d rather be.

\--

His touches are brands, marking and bruising even as they drag along Jack’s skin in the barest caress. It’s not so much the physical aspect as it is the psychological—Pitch touches with purpose and Jack isn’t one to complain or deny. He likes the way it feels, the way it makes him _belong_.

Every fingertip on his ribcage is a pinprick of fire and they leave smoke trails that evaporate with the condensation on his skin, but he can feel the burn deep within his muscles. Jack likes to think that even if someday he dissolves in the wind, his bones will be left behind with the carved lines Pitch has made.

It doesn’t matter that they’re standing in the dark outside of the cities that reject them, Jack revels in the hands on his shoulders and the steady beating of the heart pressed to his back. They are real. They exist. They only need to prove it to each other.

\--

His anger hurts more than any broken bone and Jack doesn’t want to scream anymore but Pitch doesn’t _listen_.

It’s not their first fight and it won’t be their last but it leaves Jack with a hollow ache as he runs away to the North Pole where he knows Pitch won’t follow him. North is welcoming but the other Guardians are there as well and he doesn’t want to hear them, doesn’t want them to say ‘we told you so’. They don’t understand and they don’t listen, either, why doesn’t _anyone_ listen to him?

He leaves them too and the wind carries him through the night until he’s alone and screaming at the empty sky where even the moon is refusing to hear him, hidden behind the shadow of the earth.

Warm hands on his shoulders pull him back and turn him around and fingers threading through his hair are the closest he will ever get to an apology. They fall where they stand, tugging and pushing and pulling, desperate to reconnect where they have torn each other apart and left gaping wounds.

Jack screams but this time it’s for another reason and Pitch is finally listening.

\--

His laughter sends shivers down Jack’s spine, the sort that make him want to laugh too. While Bunnymund is racing through the snow to find Jack in order to tear him a new one, they are falling against each other and cackling.

He lives for this. These moments when they are smiling and laughing and having fun. There are other moments, too, times when they are twined together in the dark and the only sounds are their heavy breaths. But times like this are proof that they don’t have to play into the Guardians’ ideals. They don’t have to be preset, ill-imagined, badly written villains.

They aren’t perfect. Whatever gods there are know that. But they don’t feel the need to try to be what they aren’t and Jack needs that.

It’s more than love. Love doesn’t come close to what they have.

Pitch lets out an undignified snort when Jack nails Bunnymund in the face with a snowball. Jack grins and Pitch pulls him in for a brief kiss before they are laughing again, sinking into shadow before Bunnymund can catch them.

Everything they have is what Jack wants. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY SO I EDITED THIS WHILE DRUNK I'M SORRY FOR ANY MISTAKES
> 
> HAPPY BIRTHDAY LINDZ


End file.
